


Capturing the Details

by crazygirlne



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Discussion of Past Abuse, F/M, Nude Modeling, art school au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 05:53:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15551079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazygirlne/pseuds/crazygirlne
Summary: Sara’s an art student. She meets Leonard when he models for her first art class, and somehow they become friends. Of course she texts him when she realizes she has an assignment due.





	Capturing the Details

**Author's Note:**

> Captain Canary Week Day 3: Alternate Universe. Discussion of past abuse. Teen for that, some nudity, and some cursing. Quite a bit longer than my other two so far for Captain Canary Week, hence the standalone instead of being added to the collection.

Sara’s not sure how she becomes friends with the reluctant model from her Intro to Art class.

He was the model only once, pressured into it by his younger sister, who was TA for the course. He refused to remove any of his clothing while posing, not even his heavy parka, so that particular class focused on the way different clothes drape and how to show shadow on dark objects. He scowled throughout the 45 minutes, but he was still, moving only as instructed, and honestly, the results of that class were Sara’s favorite. Very striking.

Immediately after class, Sara spoke to him, teasing him about modeling as a favor for his little sister; Sara knew for sure Laurel would never agree to something like that. He smirked at her, and that’s definitely when the lust started.

The friendship itself takes much longer, and even though she can trace the steps, she still isn’t sure why they happen, or how they get close, not in a logical way.

She calls Lisa one day, using the woman’s posted contact information, hoping to discuss potentially switching her major from education to art. Leonard answers because Lisa forgot her phone at his place, and when he realizes why Sara’s calling, he helps her talk it through, not giving his opinion but helping her find her own conclusions. Sara’s eyes dart to her drawing of him. It’s hung on the wall of her improvised, growing art studio, and in it, his scowl definitely looks faked, a hint of humor behind his bright eyes.

Once she’s majoring in art instead of dabbling in it, she runs into Lisa more often. She finds out Lisa and Leonard live in separate sides of a duplex so that they both have their space without being too far to help out, and they’re very near her own apartment, so when Sara has to move a piece of furniture that’s just a bit too unwieldy for one person, she doesn’t think about it very hard before she calls Lisa, and she isn’t too surprised when Leonard shows up, too.

Then she starts seeing Leonard everywhere over the next few months. Not in a creepy way, of course, or she’d have called her father, who’s a cop. No, the man apparently has a million jobs. She sees him at the art museum, the car shop, and the theater. They exchange pleasantries each time, but one time that she sees him at the museum, she has to ask:

“How many jobs do you _have?_ ”

He smirks, and she thinks he’s going to blow off the question, but then he searches her eyes. She’s not sure what he sees, but he answers seriously.

“Just the ones you’ve seen,” he says. “The old man was a thief, and not a very good one. I had two choices: follow in his footsteps but be better at it, or find something else to do and make sure my baby sister had a home and someone to look out for her. Someone who didn’t beat her like dear old Dad.” He looks at the floor before looking back at Sara, smiling wryly. “Turns out it takes a lot more jobs when they’re honest and you’ve got no experience you can put on a resume.”

“You could do something else if you wanted now, right?” Sara asks. “I mean, you’re smart, and Lisa probably doesn’t need much anymore, financially.”

“No,” he agrees, “she takes care of herself.” He shrugs. “I like it here at the museum, but the pay is shit, and I like having a buffer. I keep my eyes and ears open, and I’ll apply for a better job here when one opens up.” The mildly mischievous grin he gives her then is unfairly hot. “Sometimes I pretend I took the other road and I plan out museum heists.”

They keep chatting, and somehow she ends up with his number, and they just…

They keep talking.

They talk about family (his dad is in jail, and after hearing how he treated his kids, Sara wishes her own father had been the one to put the bastard there). They talk about the future (Sara thinks she wants to teach a college art class, eventually). They talk about the present (Sara’s doing well in her major, and after a few more months, Leonard gets that job he wanted and works only at the museum).

Before she knows it, they’re talking not only daily, but nearly constantly, about whatever they think of. Leonard is dry and sarcastic, with an attention to detail that blows her mind sometimes. He really would have made a good thief, but she’s glad he didn’t go down that route. They start going out, sometimes, not on dates but just friendly outings. Sometimes his friend Mick joins, or Lisa, or Sara’s friend Felicity, and sometimes it’s just the two of them.

Mick is there when they get into a bar fight, but he leaves shortly after, muttering something about “heads in asses” and “tension.”

Sara has no clue what Mick’s talking about.

Anyway, somehow she and Leonard are friends. Good friends, maybe even best, at least on her end. When she realizes she’s about to miss a deadline on an assignment, she messages Leonard without even thinking about it.

_SHIT, I just realized this stupid portrait drawing class has something due tomorrow morning, and it’s a stupid early class, and I don’t have time to find anyone_

Despite the fact that it’s getting pretty late, Leonard’s response is almost immediate.

_What do you need?_

Sara pauses with her fingers over her phone screen, looking back at the assignment details and nibbling her lip. She knows if she tells him, he’ll take it as a request that he pose, which, now that she thinks about it, it kind of is. This is a big request, and she’s not sure whether Len will accept. She also needs to know that if he _does_ accept, he really is okay with it.

 _Can you come over?_ she writes, finally. _I’d rather explain in person._

_On my way._

Sara exhales, then starts trying to find photos online, inspiration for poses or, if all else fails, a digital model to try to draw from, even though it’s never quite the same drawing someone from a picture. It’s too easy to lose depth. There’s a rap at her door before she’s quite made up her mind.

“Come in,” she calls.

Leonard uses the code and comes inside. It’s not a big apartment, so despite the fact that she has way too much stuff in it and it’s always cluttered, he finds her immediately. He looks a little concerned when he raises an eyebrow at her, so she figures she probably looks nervous. She gets up from her little computer desk and sits on the couch instead, looking resolutely at the floor.

She can’t ask him to do this, can she?

“Sara?” he asks, joining her on the couch when she hasn’t said anything after several seconds.

“I missed an email,” she says, and now that she’s started talking, it’s like she can’t stop. “There was an assignment, and I guess they had a couple chances for a class model for people who didn’t know anyone or weren’t comfortable on their own, but it went to spam and I didn’t check it, so now there’s not time, and I missed the group sessions, and the drawing is due tomorrow at stupid-early o’clock, and why the hell does it have to be a male, nude model? Like why _that_ specific combination and the assignment wasn’t even on the syllabus, just in the email, and—”

“Sara,” Leonard interrupts. She takes a breath and looks at him. He looks like he’s trying to process what she’s said. His jaw works in the silence, and she can see him coming to a conclusion, but he looks resolved more than willing.

“Do you know anyone?” she asks before he can speak again. “I mean, that’s probably pretty weird, but I don’t know any other guys well enough besides my sister’s boyfriend and my sister’s ex, and there’s not time to find someone on the internet, and—”

“I’ll do it.” Len interrupts once more, and Sara is about to argue, about to tell him she’s changed her mind, that she knows he isn’t comfortable with this, that she’s never even seen his _arms_ naked, never mind the rest of his body, but then she really looks at him. There’s a hint of smile, like he’s amused by her rambling, and in his eyes she sees that same softness she’d caught when she first drew him. He’s a little nervous, she can tell from the way his hand clenches and then intentionally relaxes, but he’s really okay with this.

“Thank you,” she breathes. She stands and starts readying the space, not really letting herself stop to think about the fact that it’ll be _Leonard_ she’s drawing, nude, and yet she finds herself recreating the same simple setup they’d used in that earlier class. She doesn’t quite look at him while she explains. “You’ll basically just be sitting here, elbows on thighs. Look down and to the side so I can see some of your face, and wear whatever expression you want.”

When he doesn’t immediately respond, Sara risks a glance at him. He’s still fully dressed, but he’s standing and watching her. Their eyes meet immediately, and for some reason, it’s hard to breathe as she waits for his nod. The moment stretches, and Sara swallows.

“Okay,” she says finally, “I’m just gonna go change into something I can draw in. And you can, uh…” She trails off and gestures, and when he smirks at her lack of words, she escapes to her bedroom.

She has no clue why she’s reacting like this. She’s seen plenty of people naked before: lovers, models, even friends in changing rooms and such, but it’s Leonard.

Maybe it’s just because he’s usually so covered up, she tells herself as she pulls on a shirt that her charcoal won’t ruin, as well as shorts that won’t dig into her if she ends up in one position too long. It’s just because it’s so different from their normal dynamic, she decides, shoving away all other possibilities. She mentally runs through one of her favorite martial arts forms, a favored method of centering herself when she doesn’t have space to physically perform, then takes a deep breath and leaves her room, reentering the living room/office/art studio.

Leonard’s in the chair, his back to her like she asked, leaning forward like he’s supposed to. It’s a pose she’s seen him in dozens of times, natural and easy to hold, the same one he’s in for her drawing she’s seen so often by this point; while her walls are now littered with various pieces of art, she makes sure that one stays visible.

Except this time he’s naked, and that changes so much more than it should. It’s not the nudity, she realizes almost immediately; it’s the fact that he’s willing to expose himself like this for _her._

The thought is somehow both sobering and heady, but it helps her focus. She snaps into artist mode. “That’s perfect,” she murmurs, moving to her spot. She doesn’t even have to adjust him at all. She quickly captures his rough shape, finding she doesn’t even need to look at him as often as she probably should, because despite his tendency toward layers, she knows him, knows his outline and the way he holds himself. Len stays still but not rigid, breathing in and out evenly, like this is entirely normal, and until Sara moves to the details, she’s able to do the same.

When she moves on to the details, though, she sees his body is littered by scars. Her breath stops entirely for a moment, and she sees him tense. Sara swallows and keeps working, watching him relax when she doesn’t say anything. She moves quickly after that, documenting each permanent injury to his skin. It’s a part of him, just like the way his skin is soft here, his muscles are hard there, his eyes are bright when they flick curiously in her direction. She draws the shadows along his spine, the scar at his hip, captures the hint of early gray in his hair.

She’s finished in record time, despite the fact that it’s after midnight by that point. She stares at her drawing for a minute, startling when Len breaks the silence.

“Is it finished?”

“Yeah,” she answers, feeling a little bit like she’s just woken up. Leonard stands and stretches, still facing away from her, and as she sees the muscles play across his back, she wishes she could ask to draw him this way.

Len must feel her eyes on him; he looks over his shoulder at her, raising an eyebrow. Annoyingly, she feels herself blush.

At least he doesn’t look upset that he caught her staring.

“You can get dressed,” she says, looking away and standing to stretch herself. “I’ll be right back.”

She escapes to her room again, leaning against her door and breathing. That shouldn’t have been so hard. It shouldn’t have been so _easy._ It felt like she was pouring Leonard onto her paper, and she can’t remember another portrait feeling quite that way.

It strikes her with utter clarity, then, like the sun suddenly showing after a storm, streaks of light throwing everything into stark relief:

She loves him. He’s her best friend and she loves him and he just took his clothes off for her even though he hides his scars from everyone.

She’ll have to deal with the revelation later, though, because right now he’s probably wondering why she’s hiding, maybe wondering whether she’s repulsed by his scars, and that’s just unacceptable. After one more deliberate breath, she ventures back out of her room.

Len is sitting on the couch. He’s dressed again, but without his layers, wearing only a thin white t-shirt and his jeans. He doesn’t look at her when she comes out, but she knows he hears her, and he relaxes when she sits next to him.

“Thank you,” she says, figuring it bears repeating.

Leonard doesn’t respond, and for a terrifying moment, Sara thinks she’s ruined things by letting him do this for her, for a stupid class that starts too early for her to like.

“As I’m sure you’ve guessed,” Leonard says after a few more seconds, “the scars are mostly courtesy of my father.”

“He didn’t deserve you,” Sara hisses, surprised at the quiet passion in her voice. “He didn’t deserve either of you in his life, and I hope he rots in jail.”

He’s not quite looking at her yet, but she sees the ghost of a smile, and something in her feels like it’s breaking.

How the fuck did she not realize she was in love with him?

“Thank you,” she says again, forcefully, and finally he looks at her, waiting, already knowing she isn’t done. “Thank you for trusting me enough to see you like that, and draw you. I can make sure the teacher knows it’s not for display.”

His lips quirk. “Did you do that bad of a job?”

Sara exhales, almost a laugh. “No, it’s… You should see it.” She stands and walks back to where she can see her drawing of him. She has a few seconds to study it, to feel nervous before he can see it too, and then he’s standing behind her, still and quiet as he takes it in.

“That’s how you see me?” His question is almost a whisper.

Sara nods. “You’re strong,” she says, her voice as quiet as his, “and you try to be stiff, but with the people you care about, you’ve got this…” She gestures to his expression, to the softness she captured. “And yeah, you’ve got the scars, and they’re noticeable, but they’re not _you._ They’re just your skin.” She lets her fingers skim, just shy of touching, across where she blended a particularly nasty looking scar into the crease of his hip.

“This is the best drawing I’ve seen you do, Sara,” Leonard says. He steps closer, his front against her back, and her breath hitches. “And you know I’m not just saying that.” With his work at the museum, Len is actually a pretty good resource when she’s critiquing art, whether someone else’s or her own, and he’s always painfully honest with her. “I appreciate it not going on display,” he adds, “but maybe we can try again some time, with more clothes.”

Her mind immediately goes to that stretch he’d done a little earlier, wondering whether he’d be comfortable with just jeans and no shirt, barefoot, looking over his shoulder with that little smirk—

She jumps when he rests a hand on her shoulder, and she turns to face him. He lets his hand drop so she can move.

He’s much too close, and she has no desire to move away. Even if she did, it feels like his intense gaze is pinning her in place. In the whole ten minutes she’s been aware of it, her love for him has never felt so on display. He grins then, an actual smile, the heat in his eyes tempered by humor and affection. Leonard reaches out and brushes at her cheek.

“You got some charcoal on you,” he says, but he doesn’t remove his hand, instead shifting it so he’s cupping her face. “Tell me if I’m seeing things,” he murmurs, and she knows he’s not talking about the charcoal, but about how she feels for him, which is ridiculously obvious in the damned drawing, at least to anybody who knows her style.

“You’re not seeing things,” she breathes, and then he’s lowering his head and she’s surging toward him, kissing him with everything she’s built up without even realizing it, and he’s kissing her back, and she’s pretty sure it’s the best kiss she’s ever had.

What follows afterward is pretty amazing, too.

The next morning, exhausted and elated, she gets an A+ on the assignment, and she gets to see Leonard without his clothes on way more frequently after that. In all, she has to say it’s probably the best deadline she’s ever almost missed.

 


End file.
